Tentatively, Mitch brushed his fingertips over Hunter’s cheek. Hunter pushed the kiss a bit further, still tender but with a little more hint of what he truly wanted. Mitch’s tongue touched his. For a moment the kiss became as hungry and desperate as the one they’d shared the night before.

Heat coursed through Hunter, and he fought to keep his hands on Mitch’s shoulders. He was used to kissing and touching leading to fucking, and he wouldn’t have objected a bit if this had gone the same way. But he’d promised Mitch they wouldn’t go so far.

He broke the kiss and looked into Mitch’s startled brown eyes. “You can feel how much I want you.”

“Yeah.” Mitch licked his lips as if trying to taste Hunter’s kiss. “So do I.”

“I told you we were just going to kiss and touch.” He smoothed Mitch’s hair. Hunter had to be crazy to turn down sex with such a gorgeous man, but he was determined to keep things on a level they could both handle. If Mitch learned to tolerate Hunter’s touch without drugs, he might be able to tolerate sex.

Except Hunter didn’t want mere tolerance. He wanted Mitch to genuinely desire him and enjoy sex with him without anything numbing the emotions.

“It’s torture,” Mitch said. “The only person who’s gotten me off lately is me, and that’s not much fun.”

“I’m horny too.” Hunter kissed the tip of Mitch’s nose on an impulse he didn’t even try to understand, and Mitch gave a surprised bark of a laugh. “You’re fucking hot and cute and everything I’d love to have wrapped around my dick, but it isn’t happening this morning. When we fuck, I’m going to take my time with you so you can stop me if you need to, and so you can like it and want it so bad the nightmares won’t be able to touch you.”

“No, I guess we don’t.” Mitch rested his hand on Hunter’s thigh again, this time with a bit more distance between it and the bulge of Hunter’s cock. The contact still added heat to the arousal already raging inside Hunter, and he took a deep breath to cool himself down.

Mitch’s eyes gleamed. “God, I want you. Please?”

“No.” Hunter had to force the word out of his mouth. “Not now. Not in a rush, and not after last night. I’m not walking away from you, baby.” The endearment, one he’d never used, fell from his mouth and sounded more right than anything he’d said in the past few days. “We have to figure out how to make this work so you don’t need the pills and I don’t have to keep picking you up. Not that I won’t be here for you, but I can’t be your strength. I can only help you find your own.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you just haven’t had anyone tell you you’re strong.” Hunter tightened his arm around the other man, hoping Mitch would take it as the comfort he intended. “You’re one of the stars of that club. You’ve made a life for yourself despite whatever you went through. You kicked the pills, even if you relapsed. That’s strength, baby. Don’t ever doubt it.”